


Wrecked

by justdk



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Car Accidents, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 16:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11339337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justdk/pseuds/justdk
Summary: He had one missed call. From Andrew. And one voicemail. With trembling fingers Neil tapped at the phone until he could hear Andrew’s voice, low and tense: “Can you come get me?”





	Wrecked

**Author's Note:**

> Hurt/Comfort prompt for Andreil: “Can you [please] come get me?”

Neil was soaked by the time he returned to the dorms. His morning run was a sweat-inducing workout with the summer temperatures already in the high 80s by the time he hit the pavement. To make matters worse the storm that had been threatening to break for the past day abruptly became a downpour, torrential rains slamming into Neil as he raced back to Fox Tower. He shivered in the building’s arctic air conditioning and took the elevator up to his floor. His shoes were soggy and made annoying squishing noises as he plodded down the hall. He retrieved the key from the lanyard around his neck and let himself in.

Andrew had left a note on the fridge explaining that he was going out to pick up a few things that they needed. Neil was slightly concerned that Andrew hadn’t bothered waiting for him but he pushed that feeling aside and headed for the shower, leaving his sopping clothes in a puddle on the floor. The hot water felt good and Neil let himself relax, enjoying the pulse of the steady water pressure against his tight muscles. He stole some of Nicky’s citrus shampoo and Kevin’s body wash.  Andrew had complained that they all ended up smelling the same but Neil didn’t really get why it mattered. As long as they were clean.

Neil dried off and wrapped the towel around himself and dashed to the bedroom. It had taken months of living with the guys before he felt comfortable enough to do that but he only did it when he was 100% sure that no one would see him.

Andrew still was not back. Neil pulled on some sweats and one of Andrew’s black T-shirts. He picked up a paperback Andrew had left on the window ledge, something about a holistic detective agency, but he couldn’t focus. Where was Andrew?

Neil hunted around the room for his phone, finding it under the bed and completely drained of battery. He searched for the charger and got it plugged in, waiting impatiently until he could power it back on. He had one missed call. From Andrew. And one voicemail. With trembling fingers Neil tapped at the phone until he could hear Andrew’s voice, low and tense: “Can you come get me?”

Neil nearly dropped the phone as his panic took over. His mind immediately started projecting worst case scenarios, especially once he realized that the call had been placed nearly an hour ago. Neil paced frantically as he called Andrew back and waited for him to pick up. His hand would not stop shaking so he bit down on his fingers, grounding himself in the pain.

“Neil.” Andrew still sounded not okay but he was alive. He was answering his phone.

“Where are you?” Neil blurted, already shoving shoes on his feet and heading for the door.

“About ten miles away. Specifically at 228 Gumtree Way. I need a ride back.”

Andrew hung up before Neil could ask more questions. Neil hurried over to Matt’s room and pounded on the door until he answered.

“Hey Neil, what’s going on? You look totally freaked.” Matt reached out and placed a steadying hand on Neil’s shoulder.

“Andrew needs me,” Neil managed to say. He was surprised he was being coherent. “Can I borrow your truck?”

“Yeah, sure, of course.” Matt ducked back into his room to retrieve his key. “I can drive you,” Matt offered, holding out the keys in a questioning gesture. “You don’t look like you should be driving.”

“I’m fine.” Neil said it before he had time to think about it. Matt’s lips pursed in silent admonition and assessment. “It will be okay,” Neil corrected. “I promise I’ll take care of your truck.”

“I’m not worried about the truck, Neil,” Matt started.

Neil didn’t stay for the lecture. He didn’t have time. He grabbed the keys and took off down the hall, dodging around Kevin and Nicky who had just come back from cardio at the gym.

The drive to Andrew passed in a blur. Literally. The rain hadn’t let up much and Neil had to crawl along at 10 miles below the speed limit in order to maintain control of the truck. He knew he had reached the right place when he saw the flashing lights. Blue and white for police. Red and white for an ambulance. Yellow for the tow truck.

Neil pulled off the road into someone’s driveway and sprinted to the emergency vehicles, his heart pounding wildly. He almost wiped out as his feet slipped in the mud churned up on the side of the road. By the time he regained his balance he saw Andrew’s car: crumpled and scraped, the warped hood cutting into a pine tree at the bottom of a significant drop-off. Neil’s stomach felt watery and he stumbled.

“Andrew.” The name left his lips as he stared in horror at the wreck. “Andrew.”

A heavy hand pressed down on the back of his neck, rough and calloused and so familiar that it made Neil want to cry.

“Right here,” Andrew said.

Neil spun around, his eyes raking over Andrew, checking for damage, lingering over every visible hurt.

“Andrew, your eye.” Neil reached out with tentative fingers, brushing the gash over Andrew’s left eyebrow. Blood was still trickling from the wound, watered down by the rain that was assaulting them. Both of Andrew’s eyes were blackened, his nose looked swollen but not broken. There was a bruise on his chin and Andrew’s stiff posture was the only tell that he was in pain. Neil gently ran his fingertips over Andrew’s face, down his neck until Andrew stepped away, a blank look in his eyes.

“What happened?” Neil asked. There wasn’t another car at the scene but it wasn’t like Andrew to lose control, especially not when he was driving his beloved Maserati.

“There was a dog.” Andrew’s voice was hoarse and he swallowed once before starting over. “This big German shepherd ran right in front of me. I jerked the wheel to the left so I wouldn’t hit it, and ran right into a low part of the road that was full of rainwater. I hydroplaned off the road and down into that ditch. Hit a tree.” Andrew was shivering and Neil desperately wanted to wrap a blanket around him, to get him patched up. “The dog’s okay,” Andrew added. He glanced over to the house whose driveway Neil was blocking. A man and woman stood on the porch, huddled together as they talked to an officer. Neil glared at them even though they were too far away to see the murderous expression on his face.

“Those fucking assholes,” Neil muttered. “Can’t they keep an eye on their pets?”

Andrew shrugged and winced at the movement.

“Hey, hey,” Neil again reached for Andrew and again was rebuffed. “Did the EMTs not check you out? You really need to get that cut looked at, Andrew.”

“Like I’m letting those strangers touch me,” Andrew groused. “Look, are you going to take me home or are we going to stand in the rain all fucking morning?”

“Do you need to make a statement or something?” Neil eyed the cops suspiciously.

“No. And my insurance got the tow truck out here. We can leave.” Andrew started across the road to the truck, limping with every step. His bedraggled, huddled form reminded Neil of the only other time he had seen Andrew in pain. He pushed the memory aside.

The people on the porch noticed them heading for the truck and they rushed out to intercept them. Andrew struggled a little, clambering up into Matt’s obscenely tall truck. Neil had his hand on the door handle when the couple reached them.

“Oh my god, is he okay?” the woman asked, her voice high and tight with anxiety. “I just can’t believe this happened. Oh my god, Brinkley, our dog, just got so scared by the thunder and bolted and then I saw the car swerve and go over the edge—” She had both hands clutched in front of her chest, her eyes wide with lingering panic as she eyed the wrecked car and then Andrew.

“He’s not okay,” Neil snapped. He jerked the truck door open and got in, slamming it as hard as he could. The woman gaped at him and the man pulled her back, arm wrapped around her shoulders. He was smart enough not to try to say anything. Neil put the truck into reverse and pulled out of the drive and onto the road.

The ride back was silent. Andrew sat as still as possible, his eyes shut and his hands gripping his knees. Neil wanted to race them back to campus, or directly to Abby’s house, but he forced himself to go slow, to avoid large bumps or potholes, easing to stops so as not to jar Andrew. As they approached Palmetto State Neil finally asked, “Where are we going? Dorms or Abby?”

Andrew opened his eyes the tiniest fraction. “Dorms,” he mumbled.

Neil bit back his retort, about how Andrew needed Abby. He doubted that he would be able to change Andrew’s mind and he didn’t want to fight about it. He also had the irrational need to take care of Andrew himself, even though he knew that Abby would do a better job of it.

Andrew hopped out of the truck, his leg giving out a little and he staggered, bracing one hand on the truck bed to keep from falling.

“Fuck,” Andrew hissed. He leaned heavily on his left leg, trying to keep his right from touching down. Neil hurried over and hauled Andrew’s right arm over his shoulder, taking some of his weight and helping him hobble from the truck to the dorms. Neil wished he was as strong and sturdy as Andrew, wished that he could lift him and carry him inside. Andrew’s face was drawn and pale, his bottom lip sucked in between his teeth as he concentrated on moving forward.

By the time they had made it to their room Andrew looked about ready to pass out. Kevin and Nicky jumped up when they stumbled inside.

“What the hell?!” Nicky gasped, rushing over to see Andrew.

“Not now, Nicky,” Neil commanded. He brushed by his stunned suitemate and maneuvered Andrew into their bedroom. He locked the door for good measure before leading Andrew to the bed and lowering him onto the mattress.

Neil knelt down in front of him and removed his drenched shoes and socks. He got up and helped Andrew peel off his shirt and then worked the heavy, wet jeans off. Andrew’s pale skin was dotted with bruises, some of them old and sports related, but most of them looked fresh and painful, products of the crash. What was most concerning, other than the cut on Andrew’s face, was the swelling on his right ankle. Neil placed his cool palm against the tender skin and Andrew hissed in pain.

“I think Abby needs to take a look at you,” Neil said earnestly. “Your ankle looks awful and I think you could have a concussion.”

“I know the symptoms of a concussion,” Andrew said dismissively. “I don’t have one.”

Neil fretted but didn’t force the issue. Instead he got the soft fleece blanket that Renee had made for Andrew and wrapped it around him, trying to bring some warmth to his chilled, clammy skin. He retrieved the First Aid kit from his desk and sat down on the mattress next to Andrew. First he sanitized his hands and the wound, wiping carefully but thoroughly. Next he spread healing ointment over the cut and finished by using three butterfly Band-Aids to pull the skin back together. It looked ugly and Neil was worried. What if he screwed this up? What if Andrew got a scar and it was his fault? Neil knew plenty about First Aid from his years on the run. But tending his wounds often happened in a slap-dash manner, speed prized over thoroughness. His map of scars was a testament to his lack of finesse; he didn’t want to leave Andrew looking like him.

“You’re worrying,” Andrew growled, his hazel eyes locking onto Neil’s vivid blue eyes. “Stop it. You’re giving me a headache.”

“I always knew you would make a bad patient,” Neil said. He tried to make the banter sound light but Andrew was correct, he was a bundle of nerves. “Here,” Neil palmed two Tylenol and passed them to Andrew. “For your headache and pains.”

Andrew took the pills and dry swallowed them before Neil could pass him a bottle of water. He moved to lie down but Neil stopped him, a careful hand hovering above his elbow.

“You shouldn’t sleep with wet hair,” Neil murmured. He grabbed his discarded towel from the laundry hamper and knelt behind Andrew. Working carefully, Neil scrubbed the towel over Andrew’s scalp, fluffing up his blond hair. It would have been better if he could have borrowed Nicky’s hair dryer but he didn’t want to leave the room and get it. After several minutes of toweling Andrew’s hair had gone from dripping wet to slightly damp. Pleased with his efforts Neil allowed Andrew to lie down and grabbed a couple pillows to prop his foot up.

“This needs ice,” Neil observed. Andrew grunted in agreement and Neil went to fetch some from the kitchen, ignoring Kevin and Nicky when they tried to interrogate him about Andrew’s condition. Neil prepared the ice packs and laid them on and around Andrew’s ankle. Then he pulled the fleece blanket over Andrew and stood back, mentally checking off injuries and treatments given. Finally he had to admit that he had done all that he could.

Andrew’s eyes were closed and while he didn’t look peaceful some of the color had returned to his cheeks and he seemed more at ease. Neil sighed quietly and moved over to his own bed, eyes trained on Andrew just in case he needed anything.

Moments later Andrew shifted a little and turned his head to look at Neil. The bruising around his eyes was truly ghastly.

“What are you doing over there?” Andrew asked. “I thought you were supposed to be nursing me.”

“I am,” Neil answered. “I’m monitoring your condition.”

“Well monitor it from over here. I’m cold.” Andrew pulled back the fleece blanket, the gesture more a command than a request.

Neil smirked and changed out of his wet clothes and pulled on another pair of sweats and an overly large workout shirt that gaped all down the sides. Andrew loved to dress him in it whenever they were alone, enjoying, apparently, the way the shirt provided ease of access for his wandering hands.

Neil climbed up the mattress and lay down next to Andrew, pulling blanket over both of them. Andrew blinked sleepily at him.

“What are you thinking?” Andrew asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That you should have hit that damn dog.”

Andrew frowned. “Like I could live with that.”

Now it was Neil’s turn to scowl. “Your life is worth way more than that dog’s, Andrew Minyard.”

“Says you.”

“Yes, I do say!” Neil’s eyes were flashing with anger. He placed his palm over Andrew’s cheek, thumb caressing the bruised skin under his eye. “You mean everything to me,” he murmured. “You should value yourself more.”

“Okay, Mr. ‘I’m Fine’ Martyr Complex.” Andrew pulled Neil’s hand to his lips, kissed his palm.

Neil sighed. “I’m working on it. Just… promise me you won’t do that again. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

Andrew didn’t smile; he didn’t offer Neil the reassurance he needed. But he did pull him in for a brief kiss and it soothed both of them, taking the edge off their fear and pain and worry. They fell asleep, Neil curled up against Andrew, and they woke up later to find each other still present and whole. Neil thought that it could be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @dkafterdark


End file.
